


Look Up

by L_E_D



Series: Automatic Writing [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: I Don't Even Know, Short One Shot, this is just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_E_D/pseuds/L_E_D
Summary: Automatic writing (prompt: euphoria)





	Look Up

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing nonsense at 3 am? Unheard of.

It’s so cold, it’s hard for him to bend his fingers. They feel stiff, like if he tries to move them too hard, the bones will break. But he needs to know if he can move. He can’t move his head, but he can open his eyes. Above him are the few stars not outshined by the city lights just a few miles out of the way. At the edge of his vision, he can see a warm light, a calming yellow… or is it orange?

With a sigh, he closes his eyes and lets himself sink a little deeper into the snow bank beneath him. If he stays lying here, with his eyes closed, maybe he’ll wake up back home, the last few hours only a distant, fuzzy dream. He tries to remember exactly where he is, how he got here, but it’s as if the longer he lies here, the more the memories seem to slip away. 

It suddenly occurs to him that he can’t hear a thing. No real sound, only distorted noise, like being under water. Maybe the snow around his head is blocking his ears. Or maybe the ringing in his skull is too loud. Why is it so quiet? He tries to remember… 

Remember… 

The memories present themselves in a distorted way, parts missing, like a skipping record. He was sitting on a rough carpet. There was water from the condensation on his beer leaking down his wrist. He was in- he was in… someone’s basement. God, who’s was it? The people around him were laughing and hollering at something on the TV. One voice sounded louder than the others - he thinks it might’ve been his own. 

It smelt like a gas station, like smoke. Or was that what he was experiencing now? It’s so hard to remember. 

He opens his eyes again; the stars are blurry. He remembers now, that’s why they’re here: to see the stars. Who’s “they” again? It was always so hard to see the night sky in the city, it was always so much easier out here. So why is it so difficult for him to see the stars now? Maybe his eyes are closed again. 

The truck had been moving so fast, the fields on both sides a blur of grey. Everything was covered in dirty snow, but in that moment, it looked amazing. He remembers sitting in the bed of the truck, the wind zipping in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything then either. He could see the driver mouthing along to a song on the radio. 

He remembers feeling happy, so happy, the cold biting at his face, the alcohol in his veins warming his chest. He remembers thinking that he would never forget that moment, that euphoric feeling…  
He remembers… 

He remembers… 

Oh. The noises are coming back. His eyes open. The warm light is brighter now, it surrounds him, comforting. Even the way it sounds is comforting. Familiar… Why does it sound familiar? 

In the distance, he can hear sirens. So loud, so overpowering. He finds himself wishing the light’s sound would cover it up. He stares at the sky, but he can’t see it anymore. He tries to remember how he got here, where he is… 

He needs to remember… 

The warm brightness now erases the stars completely. He closes his eyes. He forgets.


End file.
